


Cradled by the Waves

by raiyana



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bittersweet, F/F, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Númenor, Second Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: Tar-Míriel's love of the Sea...





	Cradled by the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @silmarillionno on tumblr.

“I met you once, but you were small then, sitting on your father’s lap.”

Uinen formed herself a shape of water and moonlight, solid enough to walk on land with no more than a thought, and stepped onto the shore, clad in little more than her long hair. She smiled at the Man, careful to keep her sharp teeth hidden lest she be frightened.

Ossë had told her of some of his meetings with Men, who did not understand that their forms were most beautiful when they had use, like sleekness or fins for speed, or teeth for tearing into prey when the hunt beneath the wave called to their spirits, Oromë’s wild glee suffusing the waves as they all played among the shoals.

“Queen of Waters!” the Man gasped, kneeling upon the damp sand, bending her veil-covered head as though expecting punishment.

Uinen reached down, lifting her face gently by the chin and ran a cool finger around the dark bruise that marred one cheek. “I see you here… often. You stare across the Waters… but you and your people are banned from sailing into the West. What do you look for?”

The Queen who was not – Uinen heard much of mortal gossip as water trickled down from the high reaches of Númenor and eventually into her ears, bearing tales of great joys and greater sorrows, of fear and hopes, dreams and nightmares – closed her eyes with a sigh, leaning into her touch almost despite herself. Uinen looked at her, surprised by both her own decision to appear to this battered woman and by her reception.

“Hope, my Lady,” she whispered. “I look for something to hope for, something…” she shook her head, drawing away from Uinen’s touch. “I look for ways to change what is happening in my country – to my people, to my Father’s subjects… but I see no way to reclaim the Sceptre of my rule that Pharazōn took from me with his… trickery.”

“The Faithful yet remain so, Tar-Míriel,” Uinen murmured, “and while I cannot grant you the help you seek, perhaps I might…” Bending, Uinen pressed her lips against the mark left by an angry hand, satisfied by the way it disappeared, the broken skin spilling the waters of mortal blood answering her caress in its own way.

Tar-Míriel gasped, one hand flying to her cheek, flushing a becoming shade of red against her golden skin paled by the light of Tilion above their heads.

Uinen smiled, releasing her hold on her shape and letting the water fall back into the surf.

The Queen remained on the shoreline until the morning, Arien’s light sending her feet reluctantly back towards the Palace.

 

The next night, she returned to the shore, her face sporting no new marks, though her eyes remained anxious as she gazed across the choppy waves.

 

The night after that, Uinen returned, drawing a tale of the past from her lips.

 

Many nights, many meetings, passed unnoticed by anyone but Ossë, who spoke nought of them, and Ulmo whose smile was as inscrutable as ever.

 

* * *

 

 

“I cannot save your mortal shell,” Uinen whispered, wrapping her arms around Míriel, breathing life into her lungs in a kiss, “but I have come to take you from this place if you wish it, to remain at my side… until the Re-Making of Arda, after which even we cannot say what shall happen to Mortal souls.”

“Do it.” Míriel’s kiss was harder, her gaze steady even as the churning waters tore the veil from her hair, her arms wrapped tightly around Uinen’s shoulders, fingers tangled in her hair like often before.

“So be it… Tar-Míriel of Númenor, will you be mine?”

_“Always.”_

Uinen smiled, flicking her tail as she sped them away from the steps of Meneltarma and the screams of drowning Men.

_Always._

 

 


End file.
